We Don't Belong Here: Valediction
by TheMostRandomOfRandomWriters
Summary: It wasn't their first time, traveling between universes. It wasn't their first time having something go wrong while it happened. It was their first time without Ivy, though, and it might be the last.
1. Chapter 1

I had never cared about history. I like to consider myself to be smart and practical. I don't care about what's gone behind me, only about what's ahead. My girlfriend, Miranda, on the other hand, knows everything about history. Seriously, it's scary how much she knows.

But I need to go back a bit.

This whole thing started when Miranda and me met Carmen in New York.

We had planned to see _Les Miserables_ together – my mom had taken us there for a trip. Plans were going well.

We were just walking toward the theater when I nearly collided with the person in front of me.

"Sorry," I said.

The girl spun around. "Jack? Jack Lewis?"

I nodded. Her face was vaguely familiar. "Uh... sorry. Do I know you?"

"Oh, not really. I was a friend of Ivy's. Carmen?"

"Carmen... oh, Carmen. You were in that musical with her, right?"

She nodded. "Yes, I was one of the dancers. Are you here to see _Les Miserables_?" 

"Yeah," said Miranda. "You too?"

She shook her head. "I'm here to see _Wicked_. I'm not overly fond of _Les Miserables_."

Miranda stared in horror. "You don't like... why _not_?"

"It's just not my thing."

Miranda kept staring. "You don't like _Les Miserables_..."

I took her arm. "Let's go, Miranda."

"Oh, I've actually been wanting to talk to you. About –" she hesitated – "Ivy."

Miranda stiffened. "She's dead. What's left to say?"

"I... now probably isn't the time. Could one of you just call me in the next few days, please, when you've got a minute?"

"Okay." We moved past her, toward the door. My arm brushed hers.

There was a feeling like a static shock.

Then we were standing in the middle of a _very_ different street.

I stared around at some very different buildings. I didn't recognize any of them.

Miranda let out a little squeak.

She grabbed Carmen's arm, dragging us away down into an alley between two buildings.

She took several deep breaths. "Oh, my goodness. No no no..."

"What?" I asked.

"Time travel. New York. Alright, who was thinking of New York in the 40s?"

There was a pause.

"That was me," confessed Carmen. "I was thinking about that _Agent Carter_ show."

Miranda released a little scream. "No no no!"

I groaned. "Of all the times you could have picked..."

"On the bright side, I suppose I've saved you the misery of having to sit through _Les Miserables_."

"What do you mean _misery_?" demanded Miranda.

"Miranda," sighed Carmen, "I promise you that Jack didn't want to watch it, he just wanted to make you happy."

My face burned. "What, because I'm a guy I can't like musicals?"

She sighed and spoke too softly for Miranda to here. "I was friends with Ivy. Ariel and me were the ones who convinced her to be in the school musical. You were standing right there. Once she agreed, you said that no one could pay you enough to watch or be in one."

"Anyone else think we've gotten a little bit off topic from 'we just time traveled'?" asked Miranda.

There was a moment of silence.

"Oh, yeah. I suppose we have a lot to explain to you, Carmen."

"No. Not really. When Ivy was alive, I went on a little vacation with her. To another planet."

We were silent for a moment.

"That's kind of what I was going to talk to you about. I guess the universe traveling energy hasn't worn off of us all quite yet," added Carmen. "What do we do now?"

"You're so calm it's eerie."

"You aren't exactly running around screaming yourself."

"We're semi used to it. The dimensions thing, at least, though not the time travel."

"And I don't see a use in panicking. What's next?"

"We... find out where we are."

"Wait." Miranda glanced over us. "We'll probably want to blend in." She pulled off my jacket. "There's no way a guy in the 40s would wear that." She glanced around, stuffing it down between two trash cans. "I guess the pants are okay." She glanced over at Carmen. "Your taste in clothes has saved me a lot of trouble. It's not exactly 40s, but I don't think anyone will notice."

Carmen glanced down at the skirt and shirt she'd chosen to wear. A long brown skirt and a white shirt.

"And as for me..." Miranda stared down and grimaced. She wore a light sweater over her T-shirt and jeans. "I'll have to figure out something."

"How do you know about what they would have worn in the 40s?"

"Because I _like_ historical movies." She retrieved my jacket and ripped off a few pieces. "It'll have to do."

Carmen glanced us over and nodded. "Very good."

"Again, how do you people know about this stuff?"

"My family has a lot of photo albums, some of them dating back from the 40s. I just liked looking through them."

We emerged from the alley.

"What now?"

"We figure out what's going on," said Carmen.

As if on cue, I saw someone who looked like Angie walking past.

"Let's go," said Miranda.


	2. Chapter 2

Carmen here.

I decided the best way to start a conversation would be to crash into someone – it worked on Jack and Miranda, didn't it?

I nearly knocked Angie to the ground trying that. Sorry, Angie. Her bag went flying, the contents scattering.

"Oh, sorry!" I said.

"It's okay." She bent and starting collecting the contents of her bag.

"Mind if I help?"

She nodded.

I picked up a sheaf of papers. A script of some sort. "Are you an actress?" I asked.

"I wish. They just turned me down, said it was the worse audition they'd ever seen."

Ouch. "I doubt that."

"How would you know? You've never seen me act."

Oh, right. I hadn't. "I'm familiar with auditions. I'm a dancer. Believe me, they usually just say that so that if they do call you you'll be ridiculously grateful." Okay, I lied a bit on that one. I've never been told that at an audition, though I'm hardly the best person they've seen all day.

"Thanks. You here looking for work?"

"Not exactly. I came to see a show with some friends."

"Which one?"

"Annie Get Your Gun." Please, please let that musical have been released by now...

Apparently it had been, because she didn't comment.

Miranda and Jack stayed in the alley, waiting.

Right. Time line.

She finished putting everything back in the bag.

"Again, sorry about that," I said.

"It's fine."

I couldn't think of a way to bring up current events, or Peggy, without sounding odd.

She walked away.

"What are you doing?" demanded Jack.

"We'll follow her," I said. "Back to where she lives. We'll take things from there."

"What was that about your accent?" asked Miranda.

"You're just used to it. I'm actually from Germany, remember?"

Miranda's face paled. "In 40s New York?"

"Don't worry, I've got a good control of my accent, no worry of anyone noticing." I didn't mention that my family has a history of involvement in the German military. My grandfather on my mother's side was a soldier for the third Reich. My grandfather on my father's side was a Nazi politician, one who was only a step or two down from Hitler in importance. I myself was born in German and moved to the States when I was eight. Not something you exactly brag about.

We followed in the shadows and in alleys until we reached the place where Angie and Peggy lived.

"Alright, what now?" I asked.

"We wait," said Jack.

"You guys always seem to know what to do."

"When we first started doing this, we made plans for every possible problem. When things happen, we just go on autopilot and use a plan."

"That's smart."

I sat down on a bench.

"Any other pieces of heritage we should know about?" asked Jack.

"My family have mostly been high ranking soldiers and politicians, to be honest. Yes, they were associated with the Third Reich. There was a baker at some point in the 1800s, and a couple musicians and actresses. One of my great-great-grandfathers actually married into a noble family. It's pretty much German all the way back to the 1700s – probably further, but that's as far as we've traced it."

"Don't say that too loudly," he advised.

"Didn't plan on it." If necessary, I was Dutch. I have a few distant cousins who are Dutch.

My stomach growled.

"I'll get us something to eat," said Jack. "I've got money, and everything's so much cheaper in the 40s. The coins and dollar bills are still the same, right?"

Miranda shrugged. "I _think_ so, though they're probably made a bit differently, so you should be careful."

"Got it. Thanks."

Jack here.

It took a bit of time to find a place to get food, but I eventually found a little restaurant.

I wish I'd kept looking.

I entered and walked up to the counter to order.

"Sorry, kid. We're closed."

I glanced around. There were still people there, eating, getting food.

"Um… okay."

"You're closing?" A man's voice behind me, British accent.

"Stay out of it."

"No need to rude." Jarvis. It was Jarvis. Oh, no. Behind me, I saw Agent Carter.

"I'm going." I backed out the door.

Sousa approached me from the corner, limping on his crutch.

He tripped and fell hard.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He got up, ignoring the hand I offered.

"You know where I could get something to eat around here? They said they're closed in there."

He gestured down the street. "Two blocks down. Nice little restaurant. Can't miss it."

"Thanks."

I headed down and picked up some food for Carmen and Miranda. I didn't know what Carmen liked, but I got both of them ham sandwiches, and myself beef.

Carmen and Miranda were still on the bench.

I gave them their sandwiches. "Anything happen?"

Their shook their heads.

"No," said Carmen. She took a small bite out of her sandwich. "Mm…"

"Well, I met Jarvis and Sousa at the restaurant. They'll probably be here soon."

Miranda devoured hers in five bites, while Carmen took longer about hers, slowly nibbling, making it last.

Then Peggy Carter darted across the street and into the building.

"Should we do anything?" I asked.

"You can't do anything," said Carmen. "There's no way the woman would let you in. But we're both ladies. We should get in all right."

"I look a bit odd for the time period, I'm not sure…"

"Miranda, don't worry. No one is going to mistake you for a man."

She nodded. "Okay."

"What are you going to do?" asked Jack.

"Whatever might need to be done," replied Miranda.

"You can't mess up the timeline."

Miranda stood up. "I know. She was very insistent on that. Wish me luck, we'll need it."

We crossed the street together to the building.


	3. Chapter 3

Miranda here.

I took a deep breath and entered the building.

The woman who owned the building looked me up and down. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Hello. I'm looking for Angie? Someone said she lived here."

"Are you a relative or a friend?"

"I ran into her on the street this afternoon," said Carmen. "She dropped her purse and didn't notice she'd left something behind.

She looked me up and down – probably wondering if I was a man dressed as a girl.

Seriously, you'd think the girls would meet their boyfriends somewhere else, instead of risking getting evicted.

Carmen's a ballerina, very light and pretty. It would have to be a very young man to pretend to be her, far too young to be up to anything. As for me… I don't look overly feminine, but I don't look really like a guy at all.

"Very well, go on up." She gave me her room number.

We headed up the stairs to the hallway and knocked on Angie's door.

She answered. "Hi."

"Me again, hello. You forgot something when you dropped your stuff," said Carmen.

I produced several coins I'd pocketed when they'd rolled toward me.

"How'd you know where to bring them?"

"Oh, I asked around," said Carmen. "Someone who you auditioned for knew who you were, and it was just a matter of a little detective work after that. This is my friend Miranda, by the way."

"Miranda like in _The Tempest_?"

"Yes, my mother read it a lot before she had me," I replied.

"Thanks so much about for going to all that trouble," said Angie.

"It's nothing." Carmen gave her a warm smile.

The door shut.

"That was an awesome plan you guys thought up."

"Oh, it was mostly Jack's idea."

Someone nearly collided with me.

"Whoops, sorry!"

Carmen let out a little yelp of surprise – something in German which I didn't understand because I don't speak a word of it.

"Sorry," said Dottie. "Friends of Angie's?"

"Just returning something." Carmen retained a fairly normal facial expression. "Haven't I seen you before? A show somewhere…"

Dottie named off a show that I'd never heard of.

"Oh, yes, that's the one. You were really good – I'm a dancer too."

"Really? Are you looking for work in New York?"

"I wish. I'm not _quite_ that good, not yet. Perhaps in a year or two, I'll be good enough."

On a side note, Carmen actually was accepted to join a ballet school in New York for when she graduates. Big congratulations, by the way.

Carmen and her talked for a few more minutes, with Carmen and her discussing various things about dance that I didn't understand. I never took ballet or anything.

"Well, I have to go now. It was nice talking with you, Dottie, perhaps we'll end up in a show together next year or something."

Then the SSR agents took it on themselves to show up. They quite rudely pushed past myself, Dottie, and Carmen to bang on Angie's door.

Sousa approached us. "Miss, mind if I ask a few questions?"

Dottie, of course, had vanished.

"Sure."

"Do you know Peggy Carter?"

Carmen shook her head. "We actually don't live here."

"Sure you've never met her? Have you?"

I shook my head. "No." Seeing someone on a TV screen is hardly meeting them.

He asked a few more, then told us to stay on the perimeter. No one was allowed to leave.

We went down the hall for a minute.

"What do we do?"

I shrugged. "Wait it out, react as things come."

"That's the best plan you and Jack came up with?"

I shrugged again.

"Bit of a let down after the last one."

"Jack's the genius, not me."

"You're smart."

"You barely even know me."

"Ivy didn't like idiots."

I couldn't help smiling. "No, she most definitely did not, though she certainly behaved like one sometimes." My face burned, realizing what I'd said.

Carmen just laughed. "Yes. She doesn't know how to stop and think. Didn't."

There was an awkward silence.

The SSR agents retreated from Angie's room. A moment later, the door opened and Peggy left.

I moved further back into the shadows.

Peggy greeted Dottie on the stairs.

I moved quietly back towards the end of the hall.

Carmen was too horrified to move.

That was why Dottie saw her and not me.

Dottie attacked her, slamming her head against the wall. Carmen slumped down, blood beginning to trickle into her blond hair.

I stepped into a doorway, flattening myself. _Head wounds bleed a lot_, I told myself.

Dottie returned to Peggy, raising the knife.

Then the SSR agents were there, shouting at Dottie to back away.

Carmen groaned and started to come around. She mumbled something.

German. All German. Because nothing else could have incriminated her more than that – except Russian, maybe.

I stayed very still, watching, my back against the wall. I somehow doubted I could do anything except make the situation worse.

I watched silently, afraid to interfere. There was absolutely nothing I could do here to make the situation better.

They cuffed Agent Carter. Thompson grabbed Carmen's arm, trying to talk to her, but she didn't seem to be responding much, or to know quite what was going on.

They took her, too.

Dottie left.

I was torn between guilt and relief.


	4. Chapter 4

Carmen here.

I only really became aware of what was happening when they dragged me into the SSR building.

Vaguely, I was aware of someone pushing me into a chair.

"Don't you think you should do something so she doesn't bleed out?" asked Agent Sousa's voice. "She probably couldn't even answer your questions in that state."

"What's your name?" Thompson, I think, was talking.

I answered.

"What do you know about Leviathan?"

"It's from the book of Job, isn't it? Some kind of sea monster?" Yes, that was the first thing I thought of. I'd just had my head injured, it wasn't thinking all that straight.

I don't think my answer was quite what they expected. "I... don't know. Are you German?"

"Yes." I didn't really know what was going on, just that my head hurt and that I was sitting down.

"What were you doing there?"

"I was… returning something Angie lost from her purse."

"Peggy Carter's friend?"

"Ja." It was too hard to translate what I was saying any more, or even tell what the answers were supposed to be.

More questions, most of which I didn't know the answers to. I answered it all in German – apparently, Thompson understands the language a bit.

Jack here.

Miranda staggered out of the building a moment after the car pulled away.

"What happened? Why did they have Carmen?"

"Dottie attacked her, hit her head on the wall. They found her rambling away in German. Of all the things… I didn't know what I could do."

"Anything you'd done would have just ended you up in there with her. What do we do now?"

"I… don't know. We could always go in through the front, say we know something." She stopped herself. "Yes, and get ourselves both in trouble too. That sounds like a brilliant plan." She thought about it for a moment. "We could tell Jarvis about the problem…"

"That's probably better. We just have to find him."

As if on cue, he ran past us.

"Mr. Jarvis!" shouted Miranda.

He didn't appear to hear her.

We got up and ran after him. "Mr. Jarvis!"

We caught up with him in an alley.

"Mr. Jarvis," panted Miranda, "we have to talk to you."

"Sorry, a bit busy."

"My friend was the girl with Agent Carter!"

He froze.

"Please, Mr. Jarvis. My friend, she was there, she got hurt. She's… German, they thought she was with her."

He stopped.

"She came her with her family years ago, she has nothing to do with it. Please, help her out, tell them."

"How do you know my name?"

Miranda blushed. "I've… met Mr. Stark."

When had she met Howard Stark before? Oh, right, she'd met Tony Stark, we both had almost two years ago. That must be what she meant.

"I don't remember you."

"Oh, you weren't there." Miranda's cheeks blazed. "I know what you're thinking. I'm not one of Mr. Stark's…"

"Oh." He looked slightly embarrassed.

Miranda blushed even redder. "Mr. Jarvis, please tell them that Carmen had nothing to do with it, that she's not working with Agent Carter. She'd never even met her before."

"Of course." He took off running again.

Carmen here.

I think it was an hour or two that they questioned me, before they treated my injury. By then, I was practically unconscious.

They seemed to have accepted that I wasn't working with Agent Carter – the only evidence they had was that I was speaking German and was nearby her, and they were paranoid about Nazis. I can hardly blame them.

Hopefully, they wouldn't look up my family history. That could become extremely awkward.

"How did you injure your head?" asked Agent Sousa, who had directed his attention toward me.

"Dottie... blond hair… I saw her attack Agent Carter. She attacked me."

I could see a little clearer now. I was in a small side room, empty except for my chair and Agent Sousa.

"Dottie would be the woman who we found with Carter?"

"Ja."

"How does it happen that a German girl comes to America?"

"When I came, there was no war."

"You would have been very young."

I tried to nod, but it just made my head hurt.

"Where do you live?"

I named the town where I lived – a small town. I have no idea whether or not it existed at the time. I later checked and found out that it did, but under a different name.

"Do you have any associations with HYDRA or Leviathan or anyone in Russia at all?"

"I have no ties of any sort with HYDRA or Leviathan or anyone in Russia. Germany actually betrayed Russia during the war. I can't imagine any Russian would want to work with me." I'm proud of my heritage overall, but that's one part that I'm not overly happy about. The Nazi bit really doesn't rub me the right way either.

"What about Germany?"

"I could hardly be German and not have any ties with Germany. But I don't have any of the ones you're thinking of, I don't think."

"Was your father a soldier? Your brothers?"

"No, Agent." Try grandparents.

"Any relatives at all? Any ties with the Nazi party?"

"I have none. My family does, though, naturally – they could hardly have lived in Germany without any."

"What exactly were their ties?"

"My family were members of the Nazi Party," I admitted. "And, yes, I am related to the politician with who I share my last name. I've never met him or had any sort of communication with him." Kind of hard to when he's dead. "My family came here because we sensed that we needed to go. We came before the war started." Technically, that is true. I have relatives who did move to America after they decided that the Nazis would bring nothing but trouble. And we did come before a war started – just not World War II.

Sousa seemed to believe me. "Have you heard anything from them during or since the war?"

"Not that I know of. I didn't exactly want to have connections with a political party that was attempting genocide."

Usually, this conversation was held with an interested friend who'd just found out – not with the government.

I much preferred the former conversation.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack here.

We took up a position outside near a news stand. Miranda had got a skirt from a nearby store, and so she wasn't too worried about looking out of place.

"Do you think Carmen's okay?" I asked. "You were in a choir with her, you know her better than I do."

"Carmen has a disturbing ability to remain calm in all situations. Ivy told me that when we both got attacked, Carmen was the one who was thinking straight enough to get help. Everyone else who heard was just shocked. Still… I don't know if she can do this."

"She can just tell the truth, though she may want to lie about her family history if that comes up."

"Yeah," she agreed. "That would probably be a good plan. Not that I approve of lying or anything –"

"Miranda, I have been your friend for at least twelve years and your boyfriend for almost a year. I think I can understand what you mean."

She laughed, blushing slightly.

"Wait, where are your glasses?"

"Oh! Right. They were made of a material that looked out of place in the 40s. I decided I was better off without them – same with the earrings."

"Miranda, your TARDIS earrings? Really?"

"They're in my pocket, don't worry. But I can't really see much without my glasses. If we need to run, you'll have to hold my hand."

"Don't worry – I wouldn't want to run any other way." I reached across and squeezed her hand.

"Aw, aren't you sweet? As unoriginal as that line was."

Miranda sat down on the side of the curb, the toes of her high heeled shoes settling in the street. I'm about average height, and when she wears heels she's taller than I am.

"I can't stop worrying," said Miranda after a few minutes.

"There's nothing you can do."

"And I hate that. I feel so useless."

"Carmen will be fine."

"You don't even know her."

"It's not her first time, she was with Ivy. She would know what to do if things went wrong."

"There's something wrong with that. Why didn't Ivy tell us about Carmen, that Carmen knew? Either Carmen is lying or Ivy hid something from us. Ivy _didn't_ hide things, she _couldn't_ hide things. So…"

She had a point. "Why would Carmen lie?"

I admit I hadn't thought about all that. About why we were only just finding out now. Some genius I am.

That's why I need Miranda. I think of things she doesn't, she thinks of all the things I don't. She's the only reason I passed English and history in school, and she says I'm the only reason she passed science and math. She thinks carefully, I'm impulsive. We balance each other out.

I gave her hand another squeeze.

Carmen here.

After the _extremely_ uncomfortable conversation about my family history, I was left alone for a while. Probably because I wasn't exactly going anywhere.

Eventually, Agent Thompson came and brought me to that room with Agent Carter and Mr. Jarvis.

I dropped down into a chair.

"Carmen?" said Mr. Jarvis.

"Yes."

"Your friends sent me to help you out."

"Friends? Miranda and Jack?" They'd stuck their necks out to help me? They didn't even _know_ me. Probably because I had been Ivy's friend. Ivy was that kind of person – the people she called friends were few, but they were the best kind of people to have for friends. I had never counted myself in the circle. We knew each other fairly well from ballet and from school, but we'd never really been too close.

"Yes, I told them you had nothing to do with it."

"Who are you exactly?" asked Agent Carter.

"Carmen. I saw Dottie attack you. She threw my head against the wall. Probably lucky she didn't kill me when she had the chance. Why am I still here?"

"Because they want Howard Stark to come before they release us, in case Mr. Stark lied in his confession."

"Um… about that confession."

I couldn't hold back a groan.

**"**Did Howard write that confession, Mister Jarvis?

"He did not."

"Did you write that confession, Mister Jarvis?

"I did..."

She swore.

"I did call for help many times!" Jarvis defended himself. "Mister Stark never answered. I left countless messages, nothing. And then I panicked, and panicked again...and then put particular skills to use—"

She swore again.

"Like I said, panic was involved."

I put my face down on the table and groaned. Knowing someone's going to do something stupid doesn't soften the blow much. "I'm not getting out of here for a long time, am I?"

"Well, have you done anything illegal?"

"Aside from belong to a family with strong connections to the Nazi party and just happen to appear with someone thought to be guilty of treason?"

Agent Carter swore a third time. "Have you ever been hanged, Mr. Jarvis?"

"I can't say that I have, no."

"It is quite unpleasant!"

"Please tell me you're not speaking from experience," I said.

She didn't respond. "They're going to put us all away for good." She then went quiet.

I kept my face down on the table. Frankly, I was too tired to bother looking up.

What a fine mess to be in. Even if it was going to be cleared up, Dottie was there. That would be incriminating enough.

Of all the things I expected to come of my heritage, this wasn't exactly one of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Miranda here.

We walked around the building to see the communications between the two windows.

We made sure to stay out of their sight, though. Of all the things we needed or wanted, a Russian assassin trying to murder us wasn't exactly high up on the list.

Jack had a chess set – it was a little travel one he kept in his jacket. We opened it up and started to play.

Jack, as a genius, is an excellent chess player. However, his strategies are always obvious. So far, he's never won a game against me.

I think he conceded the first few games we played together, though, so they don't really count.

"Should we try to do something? To help the person who's going to die?" asked Jack as he took one of my bishops.

"No. Ivy wouldn't allow it, too much risk."

"Ivy's dead, I don't much care what she would do. But you're right."

"You know, I sometimes wondered if you two liked each other."

"Me and Ivy?" He shook his head. "I had a crush on her for a while, when I first met her. You know how pretty she was." He cringed. "I'm not supposed to talk about other girls being pretty, am I?"

"Don't worry. With most girls, I'm not sure how well that would go over, but I do remember how pretty Ivy was."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought she was pretty. Very, very pretty. I had a crush on her for a while. But I didn't really like her in that way, I just thought she was pretty. We're too similar in personality for much more than friendship. Going out with Ivy would be a bit too much like dating a guard dog." He moved his pawn. "

I moved my queen. "Check."

Jack stared. "How do you even do that?"

"How do you invent stuff?"

He stared at the board. "Um…" He moved his king out of the way.

I moved a pawn. "Checkmate."

He groaned, then laughed. "Some genius I am…"

Carmen here.

I kept my face down on the table as Peggy and Mr. Jarvis tried to explain about the whole mess. I just listened and kept quiet.

"She's not involved in this at _all_?" asked Chief Dooley.

"I'd never seen her before until now. And you may want to get someone to take another look at her, she _did_ just have her head bashed through a wall, it's a wonder she's conscious at all."

Agent Thompson took my arm, escorting me out of the room and into the little doctor's room.

The doctor said little to me, except for asking about what hurt and what had happened.

What hurt? Everything. I'd had my head thrown against a _brick wall_.

Then again, I suppose it was lucky that she didn't just snap my neck.

I suppose it was good I hadn't mentioned my background in dance – I'd really rather not associate myself with Dottie.

I glanced out the window. Miranda and Jack sat in the street, playing chess.

Miranda made a move. Jack buried his face in his hands.

They stood up as the SSR agents crossed the street – to look for Dottie, of course.

Jack took her arm and led her away quickly. Probably best.

I played with the necklace around my neck, watching the street.

Then the psychologist entered the room.

I stood up. Too late to stuff my ears like Agent Sousa did.

"Hello. They've put me in here to be safe too."

The agent with him definitely didn't look alright. The hypnotism, of course.

"Hello," I said, and introduced myself.

He raised his eyebrows at my surname. "You wouldn't be related to –"

I named off the relative who had been a high up in the Nazi Party. "Yes, I would be." Probably another reason for him to kill me – since the Germans betrayed the Russians and all.

He sat down on a stool. "You're not happy with your relation to him, am I right?"

"Why do you ask?"

"The way you answered the question. As if you couldn't wait to be off the subject."

"Well, he _was_ involved in the planning and execution of genocide. It's not really something to be proud of."

He continued talking as my mind raced, trying to figure out how to politely exit. If it came to that, I wouldn't, but it would be preferable.

"You know, you can help ease your guilt." His fingers closed on the ring.

I jumped up from my chair. "I don't feel guilty. Why should I feel guilty for something I haven't done?" I backed toward the door. "He did those things, not me. I've never even met the man."

He seemed to guess I knew something was off. "You can't go out, they're all running around and you'd just be in the way."

I nodded and stepped away from the door. "Have you ever been to Germany?"

"Yes. Not during the war, though."

"I imagine not."

I didn't think I could over power either of them if I had to. I'm quite physically fit, but throwing punches is a bit different than ballet.

I twisted nervously at the cross around my neck. "Tell me about your work as a psychologist, Doctor, I've always thought it to be quite an interesting subject."

He raised his eyebrows. "I've never had a woman ask me that before."

"I suppose not." I swallowed. "Tell me, what sort of work did you do in Russia?"

"How did you know I was Russian? The accent?"

"Yes. I've been to Russia before, actually. I quite liked it, though it's been a while." My family had visited a few times, but not in the last few years.

"What were the things you remember?"

"Oh, not much. The old palaces were lovely." I know little about hypnotism, but I have heard that it's harder to do if the person knows you're trying to do it. Is that true?

I tried the door, as if to glance out and see what was going on. The door was locked.


	7. Chapter 7

Carmen here.

Now I look back on it, I'm rather surprised I didn't scream from terror when I realized the door was locked.

Instead of screaming, however, I took my hand off the knob. "Why are you here, Doctor?"

"I saw you before. From the window."

Watching him tap out messages to Dottie. Wonderful.

"I'm afraid I didn't see much of you. I was too tired to do much aside from just sit there. I was attacked earlier today, and my head hurts too much to do much of anything."

When they had decided to finally have someone take a look at my head, they'd undone my hairstyle. I'd kept the bobby pins by sticking them onto the edge of my sleeve. Now, I pulled one off and put my hands behind my back, unbending it.

"Doctor, I'm not a stupid girl. What do you want?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just that. What are you trying to do?"

Jack and Miranda would know what to do, but they weren't here.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"No offense, but you're really starting to act a little creepy." How solid was the door? I could probably knock it down if I had to... if they didn't stop me. Which they would.

"Creepy?"

I think he actually didn't know the English word.

"It means, uh..." I stood in front of the door, sticking the pin in the lock. "How do I explain this..." I gave it a hard twist.

The door clicked swung open.

I ran like I'd never run before.

Turns out, you don't really notice the skull splitting pain you're causing when you're trying to run away from the crazy guy who's trying to hypnotize you.

Anyhow, I ran down the hall as fast as I could.

Footsteps pounded after me.

I don't like fighting – I took karate once and found I didn't have the guts to hit anybody.

When a hand closed onto my hair, though, I thrust my knee forward at him – the thing they tell all girls to do when a guy attacks them.

Unfortunately, he sidestepped, yanking my hair with him.

I went with another piece of advice I'd picked up somewhere – claw the opponent's eyes out.

Turns out, even if you don't quite manage that, it still hurts a lot.

He let go of my hair.

I ran again, realizing I'd just done hurt someone intentionally – something I don't think I've ever done before.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. Not an actual word, but a long, loud, shrieking sound – the kind that is really annoying and gets everyone's attention.

Both of them decided to make a speedy exit.

I kept running, all the way into the main room.

Everyone was standing around, staring into the office, where Chief Dooley had the bomb strapped to him.

Miranda here.

After we saw the agents exiting the building where Dottie had signaled Ivchenko, we stayed out of the way – I had rather not have a person jump out of a window above me and then explode.

For the record, if we _had_ tried to communicate it to him, we would have destroyed the time line. Bad things happen when you mess with time lines. If you don't believe me, watch _Dr. Who_.

Actually, watch _Dr. Who_ even if you do believe me.

We stared up at the windows. "You think Carmen will get out first?" asked Jack.

"I have no idea." Carmen didn't seem the type who would deal well with watching someone die... I shuddered. "Did she ever say where she and Ivy went?"

Jack shrugged. "It's odd, wouldn't Ivy have told us about it?"

"She didn't tell any of you about meeting Jack Frost."

"_Who_?"

"_Rise of the Guardians_. She met him while she was out of town."

"Ivy didn't tell us about that?"

"No. I only know because I was on the phone with her when she figured out what was going on. Pitch Black was hiding under her bed."

"What?"

"It's a long story, or so I'm told." I shrugged. "But I suppose none of us were totally honest with her. I certainly wasn't. I even lied on our first recording because she was listening to me record it."

"What did you lie about?"

"You've heard it. You remember that bit after I... went missing and I woke up?"

"Yeah."

"I may have left out a few parts... like that he punched me in the face a couple times."

Jack's jaw tightened.

"He was under mind control, Jack. Don't even think about whatever you're thinking."

"What else have you left off?"

"Oh, not much. Just bits and pieces. Softened things to make them a little easier for Ivy to digest. Don't tell me you haven't done it."

"We've _agreed_ to do it. Once. And I'm really not sure about whether we should have lied to her about that. You _really_ think she believed you went looking for her during _Iron Man 3_?"

"Ivy believed everything I said." She had trusted us and believed everything we said – she herself could not and would not tell a lie to save her life.

"How many other times have you lied?"

I shrugged. "Lost count, really."

There was a moment of silence. He might not like or agree with me, but he understood why.

"Jack... have we done the right thing? Was any of this ever right?"

"Now's not a time to be questioning ourselves."

"If there ever was a time, it's now. I've played along and supported Ivy until she... died. But was it really right? Are we doing the right thing?"

He shrugged. "I don't really know if we can know for sure what the right thing is. We can guess and try to do our best to know, but I don't think we'll ever know for sure whether it is. I believe it is, but it's hard to be sure, isn't it?"

There was a sound of glass shattering. An explosion.

I felt suddenly sick.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack here.

Trying to figure out a way to get to Carmen was a nightmare.

We saw Howard Stark going in – neither of us wanted to explain the situation and incriminate ourselves somehow. Sorry Carmen.

We settled for waiting while another game of chess.

Carmen here.

I would have liked nothing better but to vanish during the confusion of the aftermath.

However, that would look highly suspicious, and when I didn't want to make things any worse than they already were.

Agent Carter and the others were discussing the missing canisters and what to do.

"Well, I've counted ten canisters," said Agent Thompson. "Meaning Ivchenko has enough to send half the city into a homicidal rage."

"But why?" asked Agent Carter. "Why go to all that trouble?"

"Because he's a Russian jerk with a chip on his shoulder. Why else?"

"No, it's got to be something more than that, if Ivchenko has a plan. He brought us into Russia, he tricked us into bringing us into this country. There's something specific that he is targeting. We just have to find out what it is."

"The target is me."

I spun around in the direction of the voice.

Before us stood Howard Stark and Mr. Jarvis.

The entire office aimed their guns at him.

"Get your hands up, get your hands up," ordered Agent Thompson.

Mr. Jarvis's arms shot up.

"What kind of welcome is this?" asked Mr. Stark, ignoring the guns.

"How'd you get in here?" asked Agent Sousa.

"You know who designed the SSR security system?"

"Yeah, the same outfit that secures the White House."

"Exactly. They stink. You should have hired me." He turned his attention to Agent Carter. "I know, you missed me."

I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.

Mr. Stark eyed me. "I thought you said you were the only lady agent, Peggy."

"She doesn't work here," said Agent Carter.

I stepped behind the desk, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the way he was eyeing me.

Mr. Stark began to spell out what he wanted from the SSR. "Oh, and I want Blondie over there as an assistant."

Silence.

Peggy rolled her eyes.

I'm eighteen, for the record. In case anyone was wondering about that. And I've been told I look older. Still weird, though.

"Why?" asked Agent Thompson.

"This way, Blondie," he said to me, ignoring the agent.

Why, Thompson? Because he can, that's why. I resisted the urge to groan and just did what he asked.

We walked to the lab.

"What's your name by the way?" he asked.

I told him.

He raised his eyebrows at my last name. "What are you doing here?"

"Killing time."

"Are you German?"

"Yes."

"Sprichst du Deutsch?"

Short German lesson here – he asked if I spoke German.

However, you do _not_ use "du" with someone you've just met. You say "sie", which is the formal version of "you". It also means "they" and "she". Yes, I _know_ it's way easier in English. However, your language is impossible to spell. Which is worse?

End rant.

I gave into the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes. I also speak Dutch. And some Russian." My family is German, but some Dutch and some Russians married into us. I learned from them. My Dutch isn't completely fluent, but quite good – the similarities to German help – and my Russian is decent at best.

"Smart _and_ pretty."

We entered the lab.

Mr. Stark's eyes widened in horror. "Okay, Fräulein, I'm going to need some help here."

"Do not call me Fräulein."

_"_Whatever you say." He started moving around the lab and putting things away. "This is photosensitive, it needs to be somewhere dark, this needs to be somewhere cold, and this – he walked to the table in the middle of the room and flipped over an object which looked like a gun. "Now this is fine."

Agent Carter looked at me as if to ask "What would we do without the incredible Howard Stark".

I laughed.

"It's not funny!" said Mr. Stark.

"I know. Sorry."

He moved over to some of the shelves. "So how did you end up here?"

"A misunderstanding," I replied.

"Being German doesn't exactly help, huh?"

"No."

"So this stuff that made the people in the theater act like that..."

He hesitated.

Now he was worried about who he showed off to? "I know most of what happened, just fill in the spaces, could you please?"

"It's called Midnight Oil. It makes people go into a crazy killer rage – an unintended side effect of what I was trying to make. It was supposed to let soldiers fight for a long time without getting tired."

"Things so often don't go as planned. I tried to return some money to Agent Carter's roommate this afternoon, and look what happened." Offhand, I wondered what Miranda and Jack were up to. Making plans of some sort, probably.

Jack here.

We were, in fact, still playing chess.

We like chess a lot. Besides, I've almost figured out how to beat Miranda.

Miranda narrating here.

No, you haven't. Our score since we first started (10 years ago) is still me 214 you 0.

Carmen here again. Thank you for those interjections, Jack and Miranda. And may I congratulate you, Miranda, on being good at chess?

After we finished dealing with Mr. Stark's inventions in the lab, he went to go get his press conference arranged.

I was brought into the now rather broken and battered interrogation room, for lack of a better meeting place.

"What should we do with you?" asked Agent Carter, from across the table.

I shrugged.

"You'll have to stay here until this this... mess is cleared up."

Brilliant. I'd get mixed up ineverything.


	9. Chapter 9

Miranda here.

Jack and I found a hotel for the night. Between us, we had a lot of amount of money (we'd brought a bunch of money for our day in New York and hadn't spent any yet), and things were pretty cheap in the 40s as compared to the 2010s.

The only thing we forgot about was that it would raise a lot of eyebrows. Whoops.

It ended up with me getting the room and Jack slipping upstairs later.

Before we went to bed, I pulled the bed against it – let's see Dottie get through there without waking me up.

The window was harder to secure, but Jack somehow made a chemical mixture which made it impossible to open. I don't know all the science involved – I'm not all that good at chemistry – but I'm pretty sure the mixture involved a huge wad of chewing gum, which was probably why it was so sticky.

After that, we shoved the table up against the window. In case anyone would think to shatter the glass.

Our room wasn't break in proof, but it could certainly be easier to get in.

Jack spread out his blankets on the floor. "What do you think will go wrong this time?"

"What _couldn't_ go wrong? Let's see... if someone gets in tonight and hypnotizes you, but does nothing to me... what do we know about hypnotism?"

We began to work on a variety of plans for different scenarios.

By the time we finished, it was twelve, according to Jack's watch.

I lay down on the bed, and he lay on down his blankets on the floor.

It was midnight when there was a knock on the door.

I sat up. We had considered everything – forced entrance through the door, somebody breaking a window. We hadn't thought that anybody might just knock.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Peggy Carter's voice.

"Just a moment."

I pulled the bed back into place, while Jack put the table back.

Jack answered the door.

It was, in fact, Agent Carter.

"Hello," she said. Her gaze went from Jack to me. Her eyebrow lifted.

I knew what she was thinking, and the thought caused my cheeks to burn. I have never been so embarrassed in my _life_. Being caught in the 2010s would be humiliating enough, but in the 40s, when morals were more strict...

Jack glanced back at me, looked puzzled, then went beet red.

"I was on the floor." Jack blurted out.

She didn't obviously didn't believe us.

There was a moment of extremely awkward silence.

"Um... can we help you?" I asked, my cheeks absolutely on fire.

"You would be Jack Lewis and Miranda Pond?"

"Yeah," said Jack. "That's us."

"I'm Agent Peggy Carter with the SSR. I believe you have a friend named Carmen?"

Jack nodded.

"I need you to come with me. She also said to say 'Titanic'. Does that mean anything to you?"

Since none of our readers will ever meet us, it's probably safe to put this on the internet. Jack's first name is, well, Jack, and my name is Miranda _Rose_. So one of our safe words – used to say that everything's okay and that there's no trap – is Titanic. We told it to Carmen in case of an emergency.

For the record, I like the setting and story of that movie, but I don't watch anything with nudity (and didn't know about that when I saw it... awkward).

We followed her out into the dim halls.

"She said that you were friends and that she needed you."

What possibly for? Still, she must have a reason for it.

The SSR building was fairly empty when we entered it, though we did pass a few people in the halls.

We found Carmen sitting alone in the interrogation room, staring at the shattered mirror.

We were left alone with her.

"What's wrong, Carmen?" asked Jack. "Are you okay?"

Carmen nodded. "Yes. Well, aside from the bump on the head."

"We'll have to find some way to explain that when we get back. How'd you convince Agent Carter to bring us?"

"I said you were in danger from that crazy hypnotist."

"You lied?" I was actually somewhat impressed that she was a good enough liar to convince them.

"It's true! Sort of." Carmen blushed slightly. "Look, I don't know what to do. I'm scared, and I don't mind saying it. I thought you might... know something that I don't. Because I'm so scared I can barely think straight."

"That's better than most of us do. Besides, you're good at thinking straight. Ivy told me that after I went missing, you were the one who kept a calm head and dealt with things."

Carmen shook her head. "Yes, I did. That doesn't mean I know how to do this, though."

Carmen looked terrible – no offense, Carmen, but you did. Her face, blond hair, and white shirt were streaked in blood. Her eyes and face were red, from crying I think. She looked like she would collapse if she were standing.

"You put us in danger for this?" said Jack.

"You were in danger anyhow. You were there when Dottie attacked me, Miranda."

"And we would have been left alone if you hadn't brought us into this." I've never seen Jack look so angry in my life. It was rather scary, actually.

"Jack, it's okay," I said warningly.

"No, it's not okay."

"Jack, sit down and take a few deep breaths."

He opened his mouth to protest.

I shoved him into the chair. "Deep breaths, control whatever you're feeling. I don't care _what_ she did. When you first got into this, your life wasn't in danger. You weren't nearly as scared as she is."

He took several deep, shuddering breaths. "She's been on one of these too. There was no need to drag us into this."

"If Ivy asked for help, would you say no?"

He said nothing.

"It was a bad idea. I'm sorry. I messed up."

"No need to apologize," I said.

"How can you be so calm?" asked Jack.

"Because I've learned pretty well how to handle my emotions and just let things go. How do you think I dealt with Ivy for so long? Or you?"

The "or you" wasn't called for. I admit it. "I'm sorry, Jack, that was a horrible thing to say."

He took several more breaths. "No, you're probably right about that one."

"You had a point," said Carmen. She looked absolutely _miserable_ about the whole thing.

"I think we should be together," I said. "I don't think we can do this alone, we need all three of us. Look, we all need sleep. Tomorrow we can talk through things and plan."

"Good luck getting sleep. They'll want to grill us on what we know," said Jack.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

"Let the grilling begin," I said. "Could be worse, right, Jack?"

"I guess."


	10. Chapter 10

Jack here.

Like I said, things could have been worse.

They could have been much, much better, though.

I spent pretty much the whole early morning hours being questioned about things which I either knew nothing or could say nothing. Agent Thompson didn't take well to finding that out.

They let me and Jack out at the same time, not quite seeming to be satisfied with our answers.

He didn't look much better than I felt, but he reached across and gave my hand a squeeze.

We found Carmen in the main office. Mr. Stark and her were talking. Carmen didn't seem to be paying much more attention to his words than necessary.

"We're supposed to stay here during the press conference," said Carmen, greeting us. "Are you both alright?"

"As can be expected," replied Jack.

"Jack," I warned. "I am at the end of my patience right now."

"Are you sure you aren't coming to the press conference?" asked Mr. Stark, addressing Carmen.

"Perfectly sure."

We probably would end up there anyhow.

"Who's your friend?"

Carmen introduced us to Howard Stark.

"Hello, Mr. Stark," said Jack. "I'm a fan of your work." He started spouting off a whole bunch of technical stuff about... science.

There are a few disadvantages to dating a guy who's got a genius IQ when you don't have one – like that you won't always understand what he's saying.

Mr. Stark seemed to be impressed by whatever it was, though, and the two went off on a tangent about something to do with engineering. I'm fairly good at science, but whatever they were talking about flew over my head and can't remember any of their conversation, sorry.

"Something I've always wondered about Jack," said Carmen. "If he's a genius, why did he stay in normal school so long? Whatever they're talking about is well above high school level."

"Jack's mom wanted him to grow up with other kids and have a fairly normal childhood. At least, that's what Jack told me. He was smart enough that he didn't have to study a lot, and he was always well above the class levels – except for in English. That he took a while to pass. I guess she didn't want Jack to be one of those geniuses like you always see in TV shows – the guy who's ridiculously bright but can't be social or do anything but be smart."

"Like Sherlock from _Sherlock_?"

I nodded. "You're a fan of _Sherlock_?" I might not have known Carmen very well, but a show about murders and serial killers didn't seem like her thing.

"No, I sat three seasons through it just to stare at Martin Freeman. Yes, I like _Sherlock_."

"You prefer Martin Freeman to Benedict Cumberbatch?"

Carmen's face reddened slightly. "No comment."

The craziness of the situation hit me. "Are we sitting in the 1940s talking about two guys older than us who won't be born for at least twenty years?"

"Yes." Carmen began to laugh, and I joined in.

Agent Carter came in to find us laughing our heads off.

She stared at us for a moment, then turned her attention to Mr. Stark.

Jack walked over and joined us. "What was so funny?"

"Just something Carmen said," I replied. "Did you enjoy talking to Mr. Stark?"

Jack's response was in Sciencese, but his smile said it all.

We backed off into our own corner, away from everyone else in the room.

"We're staying here?" I asked Carmen.

She nodded.

"That makes things easier," said Jack. "We just stay here and hide?"

"Probably."

They packed up and left, leaving us with an agent to watch us.

In hindsight, we probably should have realized something was wrong before we did.

The single agent was one we didn't recognize. That should have been a sign. As should his constant getting up and his failure to say anything to us.

No, that didn't tip us off at all.

What did end up telling us something was wrong was the explosion.

The force of the blast sent us all onto the floor. I was blown against a desk, my back colliding with it. The blow knocked the wind out of me and I sank to the ground.

"You okay?" asked Jack.

I nodded.

"Me too," said Carmen.

Dottie marched toward us.

For those wondering why she would be away from something important to get at us, the answer is really complicated. Long story short, we are pulled toward people and events, in various ways. Things just work out like that. I don't understand it really. Neither does Jack.

Carmen was the first one up. She stepped in front of me.

"Hello," said Carmen. Her voice wasn't shaky at all, it was _eerily_ calm.

Jack grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. He pressed something into my hands – a pen or something. Well, if all else failed...

Dottie aimed a gun at Carmen.

"With me. Now."

Carmen moved forward slowly. Her face had gone very white and her hands were shaking.

I didn't say anything. I could barely breathe.

The two left.

The probably hypnotized agent decided to act then, by trying to shoot us. He missed.

I threw my pen at him.

I've always had luck with my aim under stress, no idea why – it hit him in the face.

This proved just enough of a distraction for Jack to move in and try to disarm him.

The disarming move failed.

I vaulted over the desk and slammed into the guy, knocking him off balance. I grabbed the gun myself and threw it as far away as possible.

Jack punched him in the face, sending him staggering back a few steps, then swung a roundhouse kick into the side of his head, knocking him out.

We high fived.

"No need to show off, Jack. I know what you're capable of, you taught it all to me."

"How can we help Carmen?"

"What could they possibly want from _Carmen_?" I asked. "Did Carmen time travel with Ivy or something?"

"Ivy and Ariel did have that one time they went somewhere in the past but said it was 'too personal' for Ariel to talk about. Maybe Carmen was with them?" Jack shrugged. "But why wouldn't they have told us before?"

"They're probably at that place with Howard Stark's planes."

"Which we don't know how to find."

Things _couldn't_ be worse right now, could they?


	11. Chapter 11

Carmen here.

Now I think about it, it's a wonder I didn't faint.

I walked slightly ahead of Dottie outside and down to a car. I did absolutely nothing except what she said to do.

Miranda and Jack were planners, right? They'd have worked something out...

I tried to keep a mental track of how we got where we were going, but I couldn't keep it straight.

We arrived at Stark's hangar as it was starting to get dark.

I got out slowly, with Dottie keeping her eyes on me the whole time.

I kept my eyes on her, too.

Howard Stark and Ivchenko were standing by one of the airplanes.

"_Fräulein," greeted Ivchenko._

_I turned my attention to him, gathering all of the calmness I could. "What do you want?" I'm proud to say my voice was very calm, almost emotionless._

_Dottie grabbed my shoulder and raised her fist to hit me._

_"No," said Ivchenko. "No."_

_She released my shoulder._

_"Hey, Blondie!" said Mr. Stark._

_Seriously. NOW?! I rolled my eyes at him. "Hello, Mr. Stark. Oh, and Ida is the name you're trying to remember, Mr. Stark."_

_"Oh! Yes, Ida!" Mr. Stark grinned. "I knew I'd remember!" He gestured to his head. "Steel trap."_

_Dottie hit him._

_I would have too._

_"How did you even know that?" asked Dottie._

_Whoops. "I..."_

_"She's my secretary. She would remember."_

_I don't know why he lied, but he did me a huge favor so I didn't question it._

_"You're his ___secretary___?" repeated Dottie with an expression of pity. That's right. Pity. "How and why?"_

_I imagine most of Stark's assistants and secretaries would be jaw droppingly gorgeous. I'm not ugly by any means, but I'm not exactly modeling material either._

_I shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time... is my connection to Mr. Stark why I'm here?"_

_"What do you know about –" he named a person I'd never heard of before. I will omit the name._

_"Nothing."_

_"No, you wouldn't. Your family prefers to forget about him – he was killed in Russia, in the Battle of Stalingrad. He's a cousin of yours, I believe."_

_Okay, that was just ___spooky___. What could he know about my family? "Did you know him?"_

_He nodded. "Before the war." He returned his attention to Dottie._

_I made a mental note to ask my parents about the person after all of this – if I survived, of course._

_Ivchenko turned his attention to Mr. Stark. He began to twist the ring around on his finger, telling him to focus._

_I glanced around the inside of the hangar, wondering if I could find ear plugs anywhere._

_Not with Dottie watching me the way she was._

_They got Mr. Stark into the airplane and sent him off._

_"Hundreds of thousands of people," said Dottie. "They're going to die when he reaches the city. And you don't look at all bothered."_

_"I am. Are you?"_

_"You're German, you should be happy about the VE day celebrations being ruined."_

_"The Americans allied with you in the war. Shouldn't you be unhappy?"_

_She glared and said nothing._

_Miranda here._

_As soon as they left, we went into action._

_Of course, the SSR knew where the hangar was, so we looked it up in their files on Howard Stark._

_The files were arranged ___very___ badly. About half of them were out of order, and the rest were arranged oddly. Have any of you ever read ___From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler___? If you haven't, do so. If you have, you'll remember a scene where two of the characters are trying to look up a file and it's filed in the last place they think of._

_It was like that._

_Who puts the location of a plane hangar under the name of the field which is the location? You'd never find it unless you already knew it!_

_We stumbled across it almost by luck – by luck, I mean Jack got so frustrated he knocked a bunch of the files onto the floor and I found it while I was picking them up. I thought girls were supposed to be the overemotional ones?_

_"___Should ___we go help Carmen?" asked Jack._

_"Jack!" I stared at him in horror._

_"It's not because of what happened earlier! It's because we try to change things as little as possible and if we show up..."_

_He did have a point. "Did we have a plan for this?"_

_He shook his head. "Didn't have enough time to make plans for ___every___ problem."_

_The one thing we didn't get around to... I groaned._

_"I know what I think, Miranda. But I'll reserve my opinion until you've told me yours."_

_"Don't you dare agree with me just to keep the peace, Jack."_

_"I wouldn't. Remember what happened in New Jersey?"_

_No, he certainly hadn't agreed with me then. "Was that town in New Jersey?"_

_He shrugged. "I'm not sure either, that's just my best guess. But what do you think?"_

_I can't describe what was going through my head. I was thinking clearly – quite clearly._

_"Let's get her, Jack. There. Now tell me why it's a terrible idea."_

_"Actually, that was what I was going to say we should do. You're the more logical of the two of us."_

_"So I'm the Spock to your Mccoy?"_

_"Something like that. Except I don't have pointy ears or eyebrows. And you're hardly a doctor."_

_"I'm still a genius. And I'll have a doctorate in something in a few years."_

_"Still not a doctor, though."_

_"Are we going to find Carmen?"_

_"Right." I pushed back from my chair. "Let's go. No, wait a second."_

_I pulled off the shoes I'd chosen to wear and switched them out for the pair I'd brought from home – anachronism or not, walking for miles in heels isn't my idea of fun._

_And it was miles that we walked._

_We walked as quickly as we could without drawing any attention to ourselves._

_Jack didn't help by constantly checking our surroundings. Seriously, if anyone ___was___ following us, it's like throwing up a giant sign that says "WE'RE TOTALLY NOT SUSPICIOUS OR IMPORTANT OR ANYTHING! HONEST!" Don't roll your eyes, Jack. It's true._

_"Do you think we'll get there in time, walking?" I asked._

_"Well..." Jack hesitated. "Estimating the distance and approximate time the event will occur..."_

_"We don't know the time, or the distance."_

_"You don't, but I'm a genius. We know things." He hesitated a moment. "At our current walking speed we'll be there an hour and seventeen minutes before sunset."_

_"What's your equation?"_

_He rattled it off. It meant nothing to me._

_"I'll trust your math." I made a mental note to brush up on my advanced math. No matter how little I care for the subject, it has its uses._

_We more stumbled on the hangar than found it, to be honest._

_It was a good ways outside of the city. We were both exhausted and it was getting dark as we got there._

_We lay in the grass at a good distance, where we wouldn't be observed, and concocted a plan._

_Assuming, of course, that Carmen was actually inside there and wasn't lying dead in an alley or something._


	12. Chapter 12

Carmen narrating here.

As best I can put it together, the reason they brought me there was that Ivchenko owed some kind of debt to my family and was paying it off by making sure I didn't get horribly killed.

Dottie didn't seem too convinced that it shouldn't happen anyhow, judging by the glances she kept giving me. Luckily for me, she wasn't in charge.

As we stood in the hangar, I became very aware of someone watching me. Probably not Agent Carter – she wasn't supposed to be there until the two went into that side room. Then again, since I was there, things might be different.

Then the explosions went off.

Miranda here.

Have you ever tried to assemble a bomb while in the middle of a field, with no access to chemicals or actual explosives?

Jack, apparently, can do that. I'm not sharing the details here because some of you might try it at home.

Also, because I don't understand quite how it worked. I just know that Jack's knowledge of explosives is _scary_. And awesome.

He built the bomb as close to the hangar as we dared to get.

"Okay," he ordered. "Get behind the building. I don't want you to be anywhere near this when it explodes."

"Run fast."

"No, I'll walk slowly because I really just don't care about getting blown up."

"Not funny, Jack."

I snuck around behind the building with really no difficulty, dropped down behind some crates, and covered my ears, waiting for the blast.

There was a moment of silence.

Then the explosion rocked the ground.

Gunshots sounded.

Jack grabbed my hand, pulling me out. "Time to run."

We sprinted around the other side of the building.

I collided with a running body.

Carmen yelped.

"Come on, let's go."

We grabbed her arms and pulled her after us, her stumbling and trying to keep up.

We made it behind a small clump of trees and kept running, using them in an attempt to keep out of sight.

"I'm slowing you down," said Carmen.

"Don't even go there," said Jack. "We were crazy enough to come to get you, we're certainly not sane enough to leave without you just because of a little setback."

There was a gunshot.

"I don't suppose you have bullet proof vests?" asked Carmen.

"No, the SSR doesn't like lending them out." I should have thought of that. We should have planned better. "Fortunately, guns run out of bullets eventually. Do you know how many they have?"

She shook her head, then winced.

"Just keep running, Carmen," said Jack. "My mom would _kill_ me if she knew I was making you run after a head injury like you had yesterday."

Another gunshot.

Jack stumbled slightly, then fell backwards, dropping Carmen.

"Jack?"

"I can't believe it," he muttered. Blood spread out from his shoulder.

"I can." How are you supposed to deal with getting shot again? "Carmen, _go_."

She took off, running as fast as she could.

"Miranda, get out of here," said Jack. "No point in getting us both killed."

"Pressure, right? Put pressure on it?"

"Miranda, _go_."

I ignored him. "Pressure, right?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

I tore off my jacket and folded it, then pressed it against the injury. I pressed his hands on top of the jacket.

Then I took off running.

Call it cold hearted and you'd be right, but I gave Jack the best chance I could have given him to survive, then took the best course of action for myself. They would find him, and either kill him immediately or try for information. If he died, there was nothing I could have done to save him anyhow, except for run. If they wanted information, he might stay alive long enough for me to help him. If I tried to help him, it was pretty much certain that we'd get caught.

I caught up with Carmen, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind me as best I could.

Jack here.

I pressed the jacket against my shoulder hard and began to retreat as best I could into the undergrowth.

Unfortunately, the racket I made could have been heard a mile away.

Dottie came around the corner, ready to fire.

She stared at me for a moment. "I should have known."

The gun fired again, hitting me in the knee cap.

I screamed in pain.

She took off running in the direction Miranda and Carmen had gone.

Well, at least she didn't want me immediately dead.

Mom was going to have a _heart attack_ when she saw what had happened. We would have to tell her the truth. No way around it. We'd need help explaining why I had two bullet holes and Carmen had a concussion.

What could I do about my leg?

Not much.

I pressed the jacket tighter against my shoulder and wondered if I'd live through this.

Should I try to get away or stay and hope someone found me? Which would give me the better chance of survival?

I tried moving. Pain streaked up my knee and and shoulder and I gasped.

Still, maybe if I moved around the trees...

I began to drag myself, slowly. Every slight jarring of my body made me want to scream. I did scream, once, when my injured knee scraped a rock.

I pulled myself in sight of the building and then just lay there, praying someone would find me and either help me or put me out of my misery.

Carmen here.

Between the intense pain in my skull and the blur of trees, I don't remember much of the running.

"Come on," said Miranda. "The trees can't be too much further, we've got to get out of the woods sometime..." she stopped short.

I collided with her and we both went sprawling.

We had run in a circle around the hangar.

"Brilliant," muttered Miranda. "Just brilliant."

Footsteps crunched behind us.

"As wonderful as that sprint was, let's go now."


	13. Chapter 13

Miranda here.

How did we run in a semi circle around the building, you ask? I wasn't paying attention to which direction I was running. I was trying for distance from the building and wasn't thinking about it.

I stared at Dottie for a moment.

Then Carmen and I both took off sprinting in different directions, taking a chance that Dottie could only chase one of us.

She chose to chase Carmen, luckily for me.

I ran around, back to the trees.

Jack lay next to the trees, bleeding out of his knee and shoulder.

"I leave for five minutes..." I muttered. "Let's get out of here."

"How?" he demanded. "I can't walk, and you can't exactly carry me. Just go, like the plan says."

"Think you can limp a little ways on one leg?"

"To where?"

"Just trust me on this. It probably won't work, but I'm all out of ideas. There's no chance we won't get caught, and very little that you won't bleed out."

"Thanks for the reminder. What's the plan?"

While I explained, I grabbed his uninjured arm and helped him into a position on one leg, with his arm draped around my shoulder.

His eyes widened as I explained. "Please tell me that's a joke. That's craziest plan I've heard of since Ariel slapped the Winter Soldier."

"Her plan worked, and mine just might too."

I took a step forward, moving Jack with me.

He let out a little hiss of pain, nearly stumbling and falling.

"Either you help me make this work, or I'll _drag_ you. I don't have much time or patience for pulling this off."

He nodded.

I helped him out of the trees and toward the hangar.

We couldn't see anyone else – Carmen was as fast as I'd hoped.

"Hey! Is anyone here?" I yelled. "I need some help!"

Ivchenko appeared out of the doors.

Perfect.

"Hey! Can you help us?" I invented a little story about being in the surrounding area and there being an accident.

He hesitated. Probably because if he turned two people away in that situation, they'd be suspicious. If he let them in, they might find out what was going on.

At that moment, somewhere nearby, Carmen screamed.

In that moment, my plan fell to shreds. Well, it wasn't so much a plan as a desperate, last ditch attempt to get some kind of help for Jack. Yes, it was a horrible one. it was my last resort now that all our plans had failed.

Jack leaned his head over. "Go. Don't worry about me. _Go_."

I lowered him to the ground and ran.

Glancing behind me, Dottie was dragging Carmen to the building, yelling at him. The doctor looked too shocked to know quite what was going on.

I made it to the trees and kept running, crashing through the undergrowth and nearly slamming into several tree trunks.

I eventually made it out of the trees and stopped, panting heavily.

No sound of pursuit.

Now I came to think of it, why was there trees near an airplane hangar? Mr. Stark must have been very sure about his capabilities as a pilot. Really overconfident.

Well, he _is_ a Stark.

I know what you all are thinking. I should have stayed and tried to help. Help _how_, exactly? There was no way to help either of them. There's no reason to be embarrassed about a perfectly logical decision.

I started running again.

Jack here.

Ivchenko didn't seem to know quite what to do when Miranda took off running.

Dottie let go of Carmen and started running after Miranda. Carmen tackled her from behind, wrapping her arms around her neck.

Dottie disentangled herself just as Miranda reached the trees and took off after her.

"You're stronger than I thought," I said to Carmen.

"Are you okay?"

I laughed weakly. "I was shot twice and am kind of bleeding out. No, not really."

"Oh, yes. Sorry."

"Don't move. Either of you," ordered Ivchenko. He had a gun out.

"Do you think I'm _capable_ of it?" I asked. Yeah, I know, I shouldn't say things that could tick him off.

Carmen groaned. "Dummkopf."

"I know what that means."

"I suspected you might."

"How are you so calm right now?"

"The only alternative is absolute terror. This is preferable."

"Quiet!"

There were several minutes of silence. I continued bleeding out, Carmen just stared, probably too afraid to help.

"You know..." I said after a while. "I'm not getting any more alive down here or anything."

He gestured at Carmen. "Get him inside."

Carmen stared at me for a moment.

"Think you could get into a standing position, Jack?"

I shook my head.

"Sorry, Jack. _Really_ sorry. I'm going to have to drag you."

I swallowed hard. "Okay."

"On three. One –" She grabbed me under the arms, hauling me up off the ground and pulling me toward the hangar.

I _screamed_ in pain.

She dragged me backwards. Every jolt and bump sent agony shooting through my shoulder and knee. I let out a long, loud shriek of pain.

Then she set me down on the cold floor.

"Sorry." Her face was pale. "I thought it would be easier if you didn't have the anticipation."

I took several deep breaths. "Probably right."

Footsteps sounded, announcing Dottie's re-entrance.

She glared at Carmen, fairly shaking with rage. "We need to talk. Somewhere else."

Carmen's face went even whiter.

They grabbed her and pulled her to the little office room on the side.

I groaned aloud. "Don't mind the guy bleeding to death on the floor or anything..."


	14. Chapter 14

Carmen here.

First thing Dottie did after dragging me in there was hit me. "What are they doing here?!"

I staggered back onto the couch, rolling out of the way of the next blow.

"What did you tell them?"

I fell off the couch, landing hard on my arm. "Nothing! Nothing at all!"

Her foot connected with my jaw.

I'm not sure she was so much trying to find out as just have a reason to beat me up.

I scrambled up to my feet. Her foot caught me in the stomach. My face slammed into the ground.

The door slammed open.

"Peggy, hi!" said Dottie.

I really hope Dottie comes back in Season 2 so Agent Carter can beat her up again.

I lay on the floor for a moment, breathing hard. My head hurt. My face hurt. My stomach hurt. Just... ow. Ow.

Then I rolled out of the way to avoid being tripped over.

I ran for the door and out.

Jack was still down on the floor. He had retreated into a corner of the room far away from the doors.

I dropped down next to him. "Do you know what to do for bullet wounds?"

He shook his head. "And, to make matters worse, I think I'm going to pass out."

I pulled off my coat. "I know a bit about first aid, but unfortunately I never learned how to treat anything quite like this. Eyes on me, keep talking to me."

"Is Miranda okay?"

"I don't know."

"If I don't survive..."

"Of course you will." I was lying, of course. We both knew it. There was no "of course", there wasn't even a "strong possibility".

He laughed. "People have died of less."

"And people have survived more. I – I know someone who survived being stabbed in the chest with a knife. And one of my cousins survived a bullet to the head." To be honest, it went through his jaw, not his skull, but I thought the encouragement couldn't hurt. "Miranda will probably kill me if you die," I said, "so just don't, okay?"

I noticed that the plane was gone. "How did Jarvis not notice you?"

"I was here, he wasn't looking, and I couldn't get his attention."

"We need to go get help."

"No. The SSR agents will be here soon. I need you to make sure you can't hear Ivchenko – just in case."

"I don't suppose you carry ear plugs?"

"Up my shirt sleeve. I had a feeling this might happen so I came prepared."

"They have modern ear plugs in the 40s?"

"Not really. They're from home."

"You brought ear plugs with you to _Les Miserables_?"

"Don't tell Miranda. She plays video games with me and watches all the movies I like, I can at least pretend to tolerate _Les Mis_."

I pulled the ear plugs out of his coat and slipped them into my ears. They were good ear plugs and blocked out every little sound. Jack must _really_ hate _Les Mis_.

I turned around to see Thompson and Ivchenko fighting.

Ivchenko knocked Thompson onto the floor.

Then Agent Sousa came in.

Ivchenko started talking to him, then made a gesture to us.

Agent Sousa turned.

Ivchenko knocked him onto the floor.

Uh oh.

I jumped up and sprinted across the room toward them, shouting – though I don't actually remember anything I said because I couldn't hear it. There was no plan. No thought of what I was going to do. Just that he wasn't getting out of there.

His lips moved, but I couldn't hear anything.

I shoved him, hard, sending him staggering back, then realized I didn't have a clue what you're supposed to do after that. Do you punch or kick or elbow or shove again?

Agent Sousa swung his crutch into Ivchenko's leg, tripping him up, then hitting him in the head with his gun.

He sat up, pulling out his ear plugs. I did the same, quickly tucking them into my pocket.

"You okay?"

"My friend's been shot."

I helped Agent Sousa onto his feet and led him across to where Jack lay.

Thompson had followed us.

"How long ago?"

"Not sure. Half an hour, maybe?"

Jack lay so still it took a moment for me to see that he was still breathing.

They began to go over his injuries and try to make him respond.

Was it too late?

This was all my fault.

Miranda appeared next to me.

"I'm sorry."

"No. We made our choice. We can hardly blame you if it went badly."

"Miranda?"

She pushed past Agent Thompson. "I'm here."

"You told them how to get here, didn't you? Told them where to go?"

"Of course I did. They wouldn't have gotten here fast enough if I hadn't. Die on me, and I'll discover a way to travel back in time just so I can tell you off for doing it."

"How sweet. You've got a great way of dealing with people who are bleeding out."

She backed away, moving next to me. "I went and found them and told them exactly where to go so they'd be here in time."

"Isn't that against the rules?"

She shrugged. "It's bending it a bit, but it's not breaking it, I don't think."

"You think he'll live?"

"I don't know. Like I said, if he does, he'll regret it."

"How do you make someone regret dying?"

"I'm sure there's a way."

My fault. All my fault.


	15. Chapter 15

Miranda here.

Jack passed out on the way to the hospital.

The doctors took over the second we got there, taking him off to be treated.

Carmen and I sat outside, waiting in silence.

It wasn't Carmen's fault, it was Dottie's. If I saw her again, I'd happily _strangle_ her.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" asked Carmen in a small voice. She had produced a half knitted sock from somewhere and her fingers worked on it quickly, methodically.

I shrugged.

Agent Carter appeared. "Good news. He'll live. And they managed to save his leg."

We both breathed a sigh of relief. "Can I see him?"

"Not yet, he's still recovering."

I'd been to a hospital maybe a handful of times in my life before. I have been blessed with good health and a lack of injuries.

The doctors encouraged me to "go home and rest for a while". Agent Carter offered to find me somewhere to stay, but I refused.

It began to grow light again.

A blond lady in a nurse's uniform, covered with a baggy jacket, appeared, emerging from a nearby door. She offered me a bag. "Here. I saw you'd been sitting here all night and I thought you might be hungry."

I reached in and pulled out a sandwich. Ham. There was another one, too, chicken.

Carmen stared at the blond woman for a moment.

The woman turned and left.

"You recognize her?" I asked.

"She looks like someone I used to know. But it's someone who wasn't alive in the 40s, so it's probably coincidence."

"Suppose not."

We sat in silence for a while longer.

Then a doctor appeared. "You can see him now."

I jumped up and all but ran inside, to Jack's room.

Jack was awake when I walked in.

"Hey," he said.

I burst into tears and ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Ow!"

I let go at once. "I'm so sorry."

Carmen trailed in behind me.

"Hey. You okay?"

She nodded. "I just want to go home."

"That makes two of us. Well, three, right Miranda?"

I nodded and sat down next to him.

We sat in silence for a moment.

"How do we get back?" asked Carmen.

"Not sure," I admitted. "I think it just happens. When it does, we'll need to have quite an explanation for your mom, Jack."

"No. I'm going to tell her the truth. What harm can it be? Ivy's dead, we won't be going anywhere else."

Won't be going anywhere else. My adventures and connection to Ivy dead. We'd be safe to live nice, safe lives. No unusual drama. No life and death situations.

I couldn't say I felt anything but relief.

"If we're not going back..." I produced my notebook. "Let's leave an explanation. Of everything. About Ivy, about her abilities, how all of this works."

"Why?" asked Jack.

"Because that way, when everything in the future happens, they'll believe her. Ivy said she was surprised at how easily they accepted what she said. What if it was because _we_ told them?"

"Actually, that's brilliant. Even for you."

Between the three of us, we brainstormed a letter explaining the whole thing.

I ripped the pages out of the notebook, folded them, and scribbled _To Agent Peggy Carter_ on the front. I tucked them into my pocket.

Then Agent Carter came in.

"All right. I need you to tell me what happened to all of you. We're still trying to figure out exactly what was going on."

For the next few hours, she went over the events of the last few days with us in every detail.

At the end, I produced the letter. "Here," I offered. "This is for... later. Open it in five months."

She gave me an odd look.

"It's complicated." The five months were to make sure we'd be gone first. The contents would be too complicated to explain.

"Oh, Howard wants to talk to Carmen."

Carmen's face paled slightly, but she nodded and stood.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yes."

Carmen here.

Howard Stark was waiting outside in his car.

I got in. Here it came. Questions on how I'd known what I did.

"I did a little bit of homework on you after I got off that plane."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You don't exist."

"Of course I do. I'm right here."

"There's no record. Nothing. And you never were my secretary."

"Had to cover up for what I knew somehow. Look, my family... we have a lot of knowledge and connections. Not ones we're necessarily proud of. I came here _after_ the war. Trying to get away from everything. Does that answer your question?"

"Well enough. Do you want a job as my assistant?"

I stared. "What? You've known me for a day. And you have no idea if I have any of the abilities I'd need." Not to mention that I was related to a well known Nazi politician.

This was... awkward. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Stark, but my life circumstances are such that I cannot accept it."

"If it's about being German, it's not a problem."

"It's not just that. I'm grateful, I really am, but my life is such that I can't accept a position like that." I have _none_ of the skills required for being a secretary. And I want to be a dancer. And I want to go back to the 2010s, where the being German thing wouldn't make everybody stare and look at me funny.

I made myself promise I'd _never_ look at someone differently because of family or heritage ever again.


	16. Chapter 16

Jack here.

We were there for two more weeks. Two weeks of weirdness and trying not to say anything that would make us stand out.

Carmen and Miranda came in and out – they were staying in our hotel room from before. While they were gone, the two were exploring New York.

Then, one day, the two came together.

"We need to go home," said Miranda as she sat down next to me. "Could you limp between us, if you needed to?"

I nodded. "Do you have a way back?"

She shook her head.

"I think I might," offered Carmen.

Silence for a moment.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" I asked.

"Because I only thought of it this afternoon and I wanted to wait until we met to tell you. When I went on an adventure with Ivy, she told me something, about when you all were in London. She said that girl who used to go to choir with us – Sharon, wasn't it? – transported herself by touching something with energy on it and thinking about what was going on in the other universe. That's kind of how it works, doesn't it?"

"Yes," said Miranda. "We don't have anything we'd need for that. Good thinking, though."

"But we do. Rather, I do." She dug into her bag of knitting needles and yarn. "You remember I used to teach Ivy knitting? She handled a lot of these needles at one point or another, and I haven't used some of them since."

"That's brilliant!" exclaimed Miranda.

"Not bad," I said.

"Coming from you two, that means something. Thanks." She produced a small needle. "Try this one."

We all latched our hands onto it. I thought hard about that place in front of the theater, going to see _Les Mis_...

I hit the ground hard, suddenly.

We were outside. It was bright and sunny.

Carmen, Miranda, and I stared at each other.

"Come on," said Miranda. "Let's find your mom."

Carmen here.

Jack's mom was, I'm sure, rather surprised to find out about Ivy's powers. They did tell her – two bullet wounds are just too hard to hide, and they had no excuse.

I wasn't there to see it, though. I quietly backed away and went to see _Wicked_.

Two days after our trip to New York, Miranda called and asked if I wanted to go shopping for our prom dresses together. Translation: make sure I kept quiet about the whole thing.

Our friend Ariel joined us too.

"What do you think of this one?" asked Miranda, spinning around in a dark blue dress. The bright lights of the room caught the shiny stones at the empire waist.

"Nice," I said.

Ariel nodded. "Dark blue is definitely your color."

She stepped away from the mirror. "I'll put it down as a definite possibility. Unzip me, would you please?"

Ariel stepped forward and did so. She was actually going to a seamstress for her dress – very particular about her dresses, and short enough that she had some difficulty finding nice ones in her size. She'd refused to let us see it until prom, though.

"What are you thinking of?" asked Miranda. "Light blue for you? Or the purple?"

"Purple's not quite my color," I replied. "I'm not sure yet. I wish I could pull everything off, the way you do, Ariel."

"I can't pull of _everything_. Yellows and golds make me look like a bottle of mustard. And with my height, people would probably mistake me for one, too."

We laughed. There was a moment of silence.

"How's your head, by the way?" The tone was far too casual to actually be casual.

There it was. The question I'd been expecting.

"Miranda told me, by the way," said Ariel. "No need to hide anything from me."

"Thanks, Miranda. My head's fine. Well, as fine as can be expected. You know, I think I'll try on that other light blue one."

I stepped inside the change room for a moment and changed into it.

"This one's really nice," said Miranda. She glanced around – for the moment, we were alone.

It was very nice. A long skirt, with long, lacy sleeves. The empire waist was gathered and high, emphasizing my small waist. It was feminine and lady like, without any glitz or sparkle. "Showy dresses aren't really my style. Just say what you want to say."

"You can't tell anyone about what happened."

"Of course not. I had no intentions of doing so."

"Your parents believe that you fell?"

"Yes. I don't like lying to my parents, by the way."

"I don't think anyone does, really."

We compiled our lists, changed out of the dresses, and left. We were planning to eat lunch together and talk about it before we made any final decisions.

Jack met us outside, on crutches.

"Hey," he said, limping along beside us. "You've returned from the land of chiffon and tulle? Personally, I don't think I'd last five minutes."

Miranda snorted. "All guys have to do is get a suit. Girls have hundreds of different choices and types and we have to fit everything just so and figure out what fabric and silhouette and – "

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Point taken. What did you pick?"

"I won't tell you yet. You'll have to wait for prom night."

"How am I supposed to get you your corsage then?"

"Probably dark blue, but I'm not sure yet."

He limped along next to us.

"So that's it? That's all?" asked Ariel. "No more visits anywhere?"

Miranda nodded. "Far as I know."

"Well, thank God for that."

I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it.

"My parents are dead because of this," said Ariel. "I wish I'd never known anything about this and I was singing in high school musicals and uploading covers to my youtube channel with only five or six viewers."

Miranda frowned. "I _like_ your youtube covers."

"I'd give everything I got to have everything I lost back. I wish Ivy was alive still and everything was the way it was."

"I think all of us wish that."

I certainly did. A shame we couldn't get any of that back, and weren't likely to.


End file.
